a death at the library / in memoriam: Bob Hudzik with poem 75

A friend who works there sent me a quick email from The Public Library of Cincinnati & Hamilton County today. It was a notice to the staff about a retiree who had passed away. She has sent me a few, from time to time, and occasionally I kind of remember the person. This time, I [...]

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there’s nothing weirder: poem 60

there’s nothing weirder than seeing a picture of your mom
float onto your computer screen, that final photo
taken on her bed before she left the ravages of cancer

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my little Ganges moment / & poem #37

Well, if you read my previous post you heard about the little bunny who almost lost its life.
It’s gone. This morning the cat brought it to my deck as a gift. Not quite dead, the shepherd finished it off. What to do with the bunny? Bury it — covering it with a big stone [...]

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the therapist & I tap into my most neurotic fear + Poem #28

It was somewhere near the end of today’s session when I realized I’d never mentioned Betsy Lippitt, my therapist, in this blog. Now I don’t know about the ethics of client – therapist blogging tales but, since I told her I’d make sure to include her and I’m ok with it, here goes . . [...]

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Reminiscing with Rose, Poem #10

Sometimes I go to lunch with 83 year old Rose. I deliver meals to her and one time she said “I like your company!” How refreshing — to say something so direct.
We went to one of her favorite neighborhood places and, since it didn’t take very long and the sun was shining, I asked her [...]

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Poem #7

At my mother’s grave
Kneeling there, I saw her name and dates.
Feeling somewhat surreal, I spread the flowers,
my sacred potpourri offering.

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Visiting my mother’s grave

I will be leaving shortly to drive to the next county to visit the cemetery in which my mother is buried. Her birthday would be tomorrow but I will be unable to visit then as I am going out of town.
Irene Shirley Krazl died two years ago from lung cancer. Fortunately, we had time to [...]

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Goodbye, Julie

This one’s not about yoga. Unless it’s the yoga of dying, passing on, leaving this physical world. For Julie Hafer, a woman in my writing class, has died. Suddenly, on Sunday. She was 47 years old, witty, a good writer, funny, and loved by the class. I didn’t know her well but I liked what [...]

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